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still looking at the patch of ground. "If he wins, it's all up
with us. That's all."

At that she looked at him, and her face assumed an ex-
pression of concern. "But he won't," she predicted. "You
all will win, won't you, Perse?"

" Maybe not. You can't ever tell, and the Dismukes people
are suing jointly. You see, he's trying to sell his crop to
them. Probably we won't win." He had not previously
considered the possibility that the Association would lose
such a suit. He had not been worried about that particular
thing. The damage, the worst damage, was being done in
other ways. And even now he had not settled the proba-
bilities in his own mind. But he was saying it, saying that
the Association would probably lose. And saying it because
he wanted, as he discovered at that moment with a cold sense
of satisfaction, to deepen that look of concern on her face,
to frighten her, to make her aware of the evil and the
instability in the world, to make her suffer. Then, with that
discovery, he took a stronger relish even as he ended: "Yes,
it's very likely we'll lose. Then you'll feel the pinch." He
enjoyed the moment, postponing consideration of the event,
and of the judgment which, he knew, he would later bring
to bear bitterly against himself.

w I'm sorry, Perse," she said, and laid her hand on his arm.
" But don't worry, Perse, don't worry so much."

He stared at her face for an instant, as though he drew a
nourishment from the distress which was so obvious upon
it. Then he asked: "And why shouldn't I worry? Tell me

" Oh, Perse, don't be that way," she pleaded, and clung to
his arm, drawing it against her side. He made no reply,
looking away from her, at the young grass over the gravel of
the walk.

"I never did like him," she said after a minute medi-
tatively. "Not a bit. I tried, but I never could."

* You never said anything," he observed.

"No"--and she hesitated—"I didn't.    I didn't know